


Splices of Life

by icefire_eyes23



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27401860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icefire_eyes23/pseuds/icefire_eyes23
Summary: Spawned by popular demand, we feature Jughead and Veronica as they travel through college and the early years of their relationship. Student life and adulthood are never easy, Jughead is glued to his textbooks and his plan, and Veronica is going to take the world by storm. A companion piece to "Let Her Go".
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge, Sweet Pea/Toni Topaz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Splices of Life

_Their coupling had been a strange story: a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, sent to a private university on a full-ride scholarship, praying to whatever deity was bored enough to bother themselves with his grubby, tattered soul, that he could actually graduate. He’d slid into_ Introduction to Business _, a two-hour course, with a copy of Edith Hamilton’s_ Mythology _crammed into his backpack with his laptop and a score of textbooks. The classroom was large and he’d settled himself into the aisle seat in the back row, his back to a corner where he could watch the comings and goings of the other students. He had purposely gotten there early to snag the seat and read a little._

_He was seven pages into_ Mythology _when a cultured voice drawled “and here I thought I’d arrived early enough to get a good seat”. He had looked up at a slim figure that was impeccably dressed with a perfectly-cut bob and brown eyes that danced with mischief._

_“I’m sorry?”_

_She greeted him with a dazzling smile and slid into the seat next to him, eyes flicking over him as they catalogued the gray t-shirt tucked under a flannel overshirt and the crown-shaped beanie pulled back from his forehead._

_“I’d gotten here early for the sole purposes of sitting in that seat,” she nodded to where he was sitting, “only to find that it had already been taken. So I suppose you’ll have to suffer through my presence while I sit next to it.”_

_He stared at her for a moment before she asked him “have you gotten to the story of Hades and Persephone yet?”, tipping her head to the tattered paperback he clutched. His heart, having briefly stopped, restarted, and he smiled._

-

Jughead Jones, all of eighteen years old and already done with this shit, tugged his beanie further down his head and sighed. The other freshmen in his dorm were loud, obnoxious, and just downright annoying. They had already managed to toilet-paper the hallway and stop up two of the toilets and classes hadn’t even started yet. He dodged a flying something (it appeared to a wadded-up t-shirt, but given its smell he couldn’t entirely be sure) and ducked into his room, closing the door behind him hurriedly. He surveyed his domain and sighed again.

The full-ride scholarship that he’d received when he applied to NYU had included room and board, along with the meal plan that he was still getting used to taking advantage of. It hadn’t included bedding, though, so Jughead had been forced to bring his own. The thin sheets he’d grown up with in his trailer didn’t look _too_ out of place. The blanket he’d found in the back of a closet was enough to keep away the chill and he only needed the one pillow. It would do.

His textbooks lay neatly stacked on his desk. A handful of gen ed courses, along with _Introduction to Business_ would keep him busy enough this semester. The _Welcome to NYU!_ packet he’d received during freshman orientation had told him how lucky he was to not have a roommate: it was the smallest room on the floor, he’d noted, but it meant that he wouldn’t have some drunk stumbling in and out of the room at all hours of the night. _Well, at least not a drunk I’m related to,_ he reflected. _At least it’s not that._

He set his backpack down on the floor next to the bed, pulling out his laptop and placing it on the desk. The nights of settling his father, FP Jones, into bed when he’d come home drunk were over. Jughead wasn’t there any more to hold his father up as he stumbled into the trailer, sliding his boots off his feet before face-planting him into the shabby comforter and turning out the light behind him. He hoped that one of his father’s friends would take up the mantle, but they all seemed as incapable of taking care of themselves as FP had been.

Jughead kicked his own boots off before sliding into his desk chair. A quick perusal of his now-open laptop told him that his gen ed classes were all clustered in the same area of campus, minus the British Literature class that he would have to sprint to to make it on time. Well, you couldn’t win them all, and Jughead wasn’t expecting to win any of them. A wry smile crossed his face. He’d never been a “winner” of any kind, not including his exceptional PSAT, SAT, and ACT scores. He’d spent more time in his crappy high school, studying with whatever teacher would have him, than he had at the trailer park he’d grown up in.

Jughead Jones had a plan. Well, it wasn’t so much of a plan as it was a series of steps, but he’d spent the entire summer, and the two years before that, thinking about how to get out of his tiny, shitty town and it went a little something like this:

  1. _Go to university. Acquire full-ride scholarship in addition to a work-study job on campus. Use scholarship to ensure that living expenses are taken care of._
  2. _Graduate from said university with honors. Acquire degree in business (because it’s marketable) and land a job far, far away._
  3. _Move into shiny new city with shiny new job and make a shiny new life that doesn’t reek of poverty and alcoholism._
  4. _Thank whatever deity that was bored enough to bother with his grubby, tattered soul for helping him get through the last four years._



He wrote down the checklist on a piece of paper and pinned it to the wall above his desk. He would look at it every day until he was walking across a stage with a diploma in his hand, wearing a cap and gown with a tassel that had been moved to the proper side. He would be the first person in his family to graduate from college and he would be damned if he allowed anything to screw that up.

Jughead nodded once, firmly. It was a good plan. He would spend the rest of the day studying the syllabi for his classes and getting ahead on the reading. His on-campus job didn’t start until the next week and he needed all the prep time he could get. He would pop down to dinner in a few hours, eat until his stomach felt like it was going to burst, and dive back into his schoolwork. He would graduate. He _would._ He didn’t care what it took to reach that goal: he was going to get that diploma no matter what.

-

Veronica Lodge, all of eighteen years old and not quite done with this shit, pursed her lips and sighed through her nose. The other students in her dormitory weren’t exceptionally loud, but they were bright and bubbly and a score of other things that she didn’t exactly want to deal with at the moment. She slipped through the crowd and stepped quickly up the stairs, noting that it was a much quicker route to her apartment-style dorm room than waiting for the ancient and creaking elevator. There were also fewer squeals of “oh my gosh! Heeeeeeeey how are youuuuu?” the further away she got from the main lobby.

Two turns later, she let herself into the suite that she was to call “home” for the next nine months. Her brown eyes flickered from corner to corner as she surveyed her domain. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do: she would be sharing the suite with two upper-classmen girls, neither of whom she had met yet, but they had a small kitchen, living area, and each had their own bedroom. There were two bathrooms, which suited Veronica just fine. She’d already set up her vanity in her bedroom, categorizing her makeup from _every day use_ to _special occasion use_ , along with organizing her desk.

While Veronica was fond of her vanity (after all, it was where she’d sat with her mother while she was taught to apply her warpaint), the desk held more excitement for her. Her textbooks lay neatly stacked and she’d printed out her class schedule and pinned it to the wall. A map of the campus was propped next to it: her classes were all in the same general area, except for British Literature across campus, but it was doable enough. She lifted her chin, eyeing the checklist that she’d placed on the other side of the map:

  1. _Be accepted into NYU._
  2. _Graduate from NYU._
  3. _Move into city to work for Lodge Industries._
  4. _Take over Lodge Industries and live happily ever after._



She’d added in the “happily ever after” on a whim after seeing a couple get engaged on campus the day before. She’d been walking across the quad, getting to know the tree-covered area, when a couple had stopped right in front of her. The well-dressed man had removed a small box from his pocket and dropped down onto one knee, telling the woman with him that she was _the love of his life_ and _would she do him the honor of marrying him?_ The woman had begun crying and nodding and the man had stood up and put the ring on her finger and they had kissed.

Veronica was nothing if not practical, especially after watching her parent’s marriage morph into the strange thing that it was, but something about the way that the couple smiled at one another made her wonder if she would ever find a partner who loved her like that. Certainly her parents loved one another, in their own cold way, but their relationship had never been sunshine and smiles and comfort.

Hermione and Hiram Lodge had always been very businesslike in their arrangement: Hermione looked after Veronica while Hiram worked at the office. Veronica dutifully informed her father what she had learned at school that day while he lectured her on proper behavior and the importance of her education.

_You are going to inherit the business someday, mija_ , he had told her. _You must learn all that you can in preparation._ And so she did. Veronica smiled at the photo of her and her parents, taken shortly after her high school graduation, and pulled her laptop towards her. She’d printed out the syllabi for her courses and color-coded a potential study and gym schedule. She was nothing if not thorough in the way that she had planned out her life. While a romantic partner might be a nice thing to have, she certainly wasn’t counting on it. The only person that she could truly count on was herself.

She would begin preparing for her classes. She would go down to dinner and take a walk around campus to familiarize herself with the area and soothe her mind. She would shower and meditate and get a good night’s rest before she started the rest of her life tomorrow.

-

Jughead held his tray in one hand and the strap of his backpack in the other, scanning the lively dining hall for an unobtrusive corner to sit in. He found one against the far wall, a booth with a table big enough for him to put his textbooks on and eat at the same time. The plate with chicken and mashed potatoes was slid onto the faux wood, the drink on his tray clattering loudly next to it. He swore quietly as it tipped over, catching it with one hand before it spilled but dropping his backpack in the process. It made a loud _thump_ as it connected with the floor and Jughead looked around guiltily.

No one was staring at him. No one was glaring or gawking or looking like they were about to yell at him for making noise and taking up space and _how dare he exist._ He swallowed and shook his head, sliding onto the cracked vinyl and rearranging the first textbook around it. A few movements later and he’d propped up his _biology for non-biology majors_ textbook against the wall, taking a hearty bite of potatoes while skimming the reading for next week’s class.

Someone slid into the booth across from him. Jughead looked up and choked on his food. Bright pink hair was pulled into a topknot and painted-fuchsia lips smirked at him. Cobalt blue eyes met a light brown that sparkled.

“Hellooooo fellow freshman,” she greeted him. “Welcome to NYU, where all your dreams come true!” Her eyes widened and her head tilted to the side, a manic grin communicating that she was mimicking the spirit squad that had greeted them on their first day of orientation. Jughead snorted a laugh and choked again, swallowing down the potatoes while the girl across from him laughed.

“Oi! Over here!” She waved to a tall guy standing ten feet away and he ambled over, tucking his long legs beneath the table as he slid in next to her. He passed over a tray of food and stacked up Jughead’s textbooks, smiling at him as he made space for his own tray.

“What’s up, man,” he greeted. Jughead finally managed to swallow the potatoes he choked on and nodded in response, eyes watering as he took a sip of his drink. The other man looked at him with concern.

“You okay?”

Jughead took another sip and cleared his throat.

“Yea, I’m good. Sorry, but do I know you two?”

The girl with the pink hair laughed.

“You do now. I’m Toni. This is Sweet Pea,” she said, gesturing to the tall human next to her. “I saw you sitting here all by your lonesome and decided that you needed some company.”

Jughead raised his eyebrows at her. She seemed fatally friendly, and it occurred to him that it couldn’t hurt to talk for a bit.

“I’m Jughead. Jones.”

Sweet Pea laughed. “Man, that’s almost as bad as my nickname. Did you get yours from your grandma, too?” he joked, grinning as he began cutting up the chicken on his plate. A quick glance down showed that he had as much food as Jughead did, but with rice instead of mashed potatoes and some kind of weird leafy green.

“No,” Jughead said. Toni elbowed Sweet Pea and hissed “leave him be, Pea. I literally just walked up and sat down.”

Sweet Pea chuckled and swallowed his food.

“I’m not even surprised.”

Jughead stared at the two of them in confusion. Sweet Pea saw the look and gestured to himself and Toni with his fork, explaining “we went secondary school together. High school sweethearts. For some reason she still puts up with me, and Toni’s always been one to make new friends, regardless of if they want her or not.”

Toni elbowed Sweet Pea and rolled her eyes, smiling at him indulgently.

“You seem interesting enough, even if you are reading _I’m not a biology major, why the hell do I have to take this class_ while eating…” she looked down at his plate. “Anything but vegetables.”

Jughead snorted. He wasn’t fond of biology, but it was a required course.

“Happy to be of service,” he said. “And there’s nothing wrong with my lack of vegetables.”

“Don’t tell T that,” Sweet Pea interjected. “This woman is all about spinach and leafy greens and protein.” 

Toni rolled her eyes at him and took a bite of her own chicken and rice.

“A girl’s got to stay in shape, Sweets,” she told him after chewing and swallowing. “And one of us spends all her time in the gym and at the studio.”

“The studio?” Jughead asked. His head was still swimming from these strangers just sitting and eating dinner with him. They treated him like an old friend and didn’t seem to notice any of his quirks. His fingers spasmed around his knife and fork and he gripped them tighter so they wouldn’t shake.

“I’m a dance major,” Toni informed Jughead. “I also do some personal training on the side.”

“She’s a menace,” Sweet Pea informed him. He leaned over the table as though he was sharing a secret and stage-whispered “she will absolutely, positively, _kick your ass_ in the gym. And then you’ll pay through the nose for it and beg for another session.”

A _thump_ under the table, followed by a yelp from Sweet Pea and a sweet smile from Toni told Jughead that she’d kicked him.

“Don’t scare him off,” she scolded. Toni turned to Jughead, the smile still on her face, and said “you seem far more interesting than everyone else in the dining hall, so I thought I’d come over and introduce us.”

Jughead breathed out a laugh and smiled, emboldened by how friendly the pair was. It had been a while, a long while, since he’d had any friends that he could have a blank slate with. The couple across the table from him didn’t know about Riverdale, didn’t know Archie or Betty or his dad, didn’t know about how awful his lack of childhood had been and how he’d struggled through school. He could be anything he wanted.

“Where are you two from?”

The words tumbled from Jughead’s mouth before he could stop himself. Toni looked pleased at his capitulation and launched into an explanation of their hometown, Poughkeepsie, and told him that they’d come to NYU for school and had plans to open up a dance studio and a mechanic’s shop (she nodded at Sweet Pea when she mentioned mechanics, to which Sweet Pea held both his hands in the air as though they were resting on motorcycle handlebars and announced “VROOM VROOM”), and that they’d have to find a good burger place in the area because she was a sucker for milkshakes and did Jughead like milkshakes?

Jughead found himself nodding before he could say anything. Toni beamed at him.

“We’ll have to find the best burger joint, then,” she pronounced. “Where are you from?”

“Riverdale,” Jughead found himself telling her. “Tiny little town upstate.”

“And you came to the big city?” Sweet Pea asked, raising his eyebrows. Jughead nodded in response and took another bite of his food to avoid saying anything. He didn’t want to tell his new friends that this was the best place where he could get away from the disaster that his hometown was.

“Sounds like an adventure waiting to happen,” Sweet Pea agreed, smiling at him and taking his own bite of food. A warmth spread through Jughead’s chest. Having friends like these was a new experience, one that he intended to take full advantage of.

-

Veronica slid her tray onto the rotating dirty dish carousel and hitched her bag up over her shoulder. The dining hall had gotten quieter as the evening wore on: there was a group of girls squealing at one large table, a group of boys hollering at another at another, and then a group of three at a booth in the back. The girl had pink hair, Veronica noticed, and she seemed to laughing with the two she was with.

She stepped around the other people putting their trays up and exited the dining hall, hooking a left to go the long way back to her dormitory. The sun had started to set, casting shadows over parts of campus as lights flickered on around the sidewalks.

Veronica kept walking, her boots making quiet sounds across the pavement. She drew up her mental to-do list: _go by the library tomorrow and find a quiet area to study. Go by the buildings where most of my classes are and figure out where the hell the bathrooms are hiding. Get started reading William Blake_ , she mentally groaned at that, _and that_ Chemistry for Non-Chemistry Majors _textbook that I already want to throw across the room…_

A score of students played football in a large field. She made a wide berth around them and continued walking, eyeing the large swings that hung from a few trees. The campus had history: both of her parents had gone to NYU, along with many other members of Lodge Industries, so Veronica was a legacy. The expectations were high and she was going to exceed them all, no matter what work needed to be done or what she had to do to claw her way up the corporate ladder.

A long walk later led Veronica back to her dorm. Her racing heart had slowed enough for her to take a long shower, soap bubbling in her hair as scrubbed. A healthy dose of conditioner and freshly-shaved legs later, she made a point to moisturize every inch of her skin, hearing her mother’s voice in her head telling her _your appearance is your armor, mija. You can never let it crack._ The routine that she had long-since perfected came easily to her as she scrubbed her teeth and slid in between the pima cotton sheets.

_Tomorrow is what begins the rest of my life_ , she told herself. _Tomorrow is where it starts._

-

The first week of classes began. Jughead slid into _Introduction to Business_ , an eight am two-hour course, with a copy of Edith Hamilton’s _Mythology_ crammed into his backpack with his laptop and a score of textbooks. The textbooks were for the courses that had informed him in no uncertain terms that he would need them every day, but _Mythology_ was his comfort read. The walk from his dorm to the building wasn’t the best, but it gave him time to listen to music and mentally prepare himself for the first day of classes. The _Intro_ classroom was large. Very large. It was more of a “three-hundred-person lecture hall” and less of a “classroom” and while Jughead knew that it was a large university, sitting in a room with two hundred and ninety-nine other students wasn’t exactly something he’d banked on.

Jughead settled himself into the aisle seat in the back row twenty-seven minutes before the class started, his back to a corner where he could watch the comings and goings of the other students. There was an exit directly to his right that would help him get to his next class on time, because _seriously, who designed his schedule so that he would have to run halfway across campus and back just for a literature course?_ He had purposely arrived for this class early to snag that preferential seat and read a little.

He was seven pages into _Mythology_ when a cultured voice drawled “and here I thought I’d arrived early enough to get a good seat”. He looked up at a slim figure that was impeccably dressed with a perfectly-cut bob and brown eyes that danced with mischief.

“I’m sorry?”

She greeted him with a dazzling smile and slid into the seat next to him, eyes flicking over him as they catalogued the gray t-shirt tucked under a flannel overshirt and the crown-shaped beanie pulled back from his forehead.

“I’d gotten here early for the sole purposes of sitting in that seat,” she nodded to where he was sitting, “only to find that it had already been taken. So I suppose you’ll have to suffer through my presence while I sit next to it.”

He stared at her for a moment before she asked him “have you gotten to the story of Hades and Persephone yet?”, tipping her head to the tattered paperback he clutched. His heart, having briefly stopped, restarted, and he smiled.

“Yes, many times before,” he told her. “The book is a favorite.”

She smiled at him again, noting the wear and tear and dog-eared pages of the book.

“I can tell,” she informed him. “I’m Veronica, by the way.”

Veronica stuck out a hand for Jughead to shake and he took it carefully, stating “Jughead.” Veronica raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment on his name. He hunched down in his seat after releasing her hand, shoulders up around his ears.

Veronica pulled out her laptop and perched it on the tiny pull-out desk with difficulty, muttering “you’d think that for forty thousand dollars a year they would give us actual desks.”

Jughead snorted and immediately covered his face. He peered at Veronica through lowered lashes but all she did was laugh.

“Well, you’d think so, but we’d all be wrong. I mean, look at this!”

She lifted up her laptop and wiggled the tiny writing space back and forth, making a face when it squeaked incessantly. Jughead chuckled and offered “I think I’ve got some WD-40 back in my room, if you want me to bring it to class on Wednesday.”

Veronica stared at him. It took Jughead a moment to realize what he’d just said: offering help to some girl he’d just met, on his first day of classes. He felt like an idiot and was opening his mouth to apologize, because why would someone like _her_ willingly sit next to someone like _him,_ when Veronica interrupted him.

“That would be great, actually,” she told him. “I didn’t think to bring any, and I’m not about to lose this amazing of a seat when a little WD-40 will do the trick.”

“This amazing of a seat?” he echoed. Veronica nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely. It’s near a wall, right next to an exit, and I know for a fact that there’s a bathroom just around the corner. And because the scheduling gods have decided that I’m going to have to run across campus to get to British Literature, this is the most coveted seat in the classroom.”

She tilted her head to the side and considered their seating arrangement.

“Well, the two most coveted seats in the classroom.”

“I could swap with you,” Jughead suggested before he could stop himself. Veronica glanced at his long legs, already thrust out into the aisle for some space, and then at hers that were crossed at the ankle beneath the desk.

“I’m not sure that you could squeeze in here,” she told him, “but thank you.”

Veronica smiled at him, white teeth glinting in the artificial light and Jughead nodded.

“So… you have Brit Lit next?” he asked, making a stab at conversation. “I do too.”

Veronica whipped out her phone and pulled up her schedule, asking “with… Morrison?”

Jughead nodded. Veronica beamed.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed. “A study buddy for two classes, and company for studying all of the others. I like you already,” she informed him.

Jughead was saved from having to answer that by the other students that began pouring into the classroom. His legs and backpack were jostled more than once while people stepped by and over him, Veronica muttering things to him like “those are really ugly shoes” and “her backpack nearly hit me in the face!” and “oh my gods, they better start this lecture soon or I’m going to throw something at the chattering monkeys next to me!”

Jughead had started laughing at the first statement but had gone into full-blown guffaws at her monkey comment. The girls sitting next to Veronica were decked out in Greek letters and were chittering about some social event that made Veronica roll her eyes. She leaned towards Jughead and said, in a conspiring manner, “you’d think they would know better than to start org-dropping on the first day of class.”

Jughead raised his eyebrows and Veronica launched into a whispered explanation of “it’s August, no one cares about Homecoming” and “for the love of whatever is holy, no one cares about their fall social right now.”

Jughead snorted through the running commentary, occasionally offering a response but, for the most part, content to let Veronica run the conversation. When the professor entered the room, however, she shot him a quick smile and then opened up her notebook, perching her computer on her jean-clad lap while the notebook rested on the desk. She was silent for the next fifty minutes as the professor went over the syllabus, the first unit they would be covering, and then dismissed them.

They stood up at the same time. Veronica craned her neck up at her head-and-shoulders-taller-than-her new friend and smiled at him.

“Ready to go to Brit Lit?”

-

The pair walked across campus in silence. Veronica strode forward purposely, her chin in the air accenting the determined look on her face. Jughead glanced around at the people who passed them, cataloguing the other students. The two of them made for a strange view, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d seen, so his shoulders relaxed the longer that they were walking.

“What are the chances that Morrison will immediately start quoting William Blake as soon as we get in there?” Veronica asked idly. “Or will we have to deal with that mystical trollop Margery Kemp?”

Jughead snorted out a laugh. “I could always do with some Oscar Wilde,” he offered. Veronica beamed at him. “Given that _I represent to you all of the sins that you have never had the courage to commit_ , I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

Veronica fished her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, typing rapidly away before handing it to Jughead on the “new contacts” screen. Jughead looked at it dumbly.

“Your phone number,” Veronica ordered him. “Put it in. I need a study-buddy who isn’t going to drip gossip into my ear all day.”

Jughead did as he was told before handing the phone back to Veronica, noting that there wasn’t a single crack on her screen protector. He thought of his own, older phone, and inwardly winced.

“I’m planning on going by the library this evening, if you want to join me,” Veronica said. Jughead found himself nodding along, already half-entranced. He’d never had a thing for bossy women, and never met anyone quite like Veronica, but it seemed that she was determined to succeed academically and it would be good to be near someone who cared about the same things he did.

They slid into British Literature and sat together, making plans for studying and for dinner. He was so distracted in arguing with her over the best way to study that he’d forgotten about class. The professor, a graduate student wearing a flowing cardigan, waltzed in and immediately began gesticulating to the board.

“I am Morrison,” she informed them flatly. “Today is syllabus day. We will meet again on Wednesday and I suggest you get a head start on your reading.”

Jughead and Veronica exchanged looks and Veronica’s eyes crinkled with mirth. The tightness in Jughead’s chest eased. Maybe this first semester wouldn’t be so bad.

-

They began to fall into a routine. Classes and studying became interspersed with hours worked at Jughead’s job. Veronica had crowed with laughter when he’d told her that he’d taken work at one of the on-campus libraries, completely unsurprised. He hadn’t informed her that it was work-study, part of his tuition agreement so he could even afford to attend the university, so he just smiled.

Veronica took to studying at one of the tables near his desk, chatting amicably with a few of her classmates that wandered by. On one such day, Jughead’s phone buzzed. He flipped it over, assuming it was Toni or Sweet Pea goading him into another movie and pizza night. He saw the name on his screen and his heart stopped.

_Betty Cooper_

**Oh my gosh… this lit professor is killing me. He keeps waxing poetic about Hemingway and I just want to chuck my copy of** _A Farewell to Arms_ **at his head.**

Jughead’s traitorous fingers tapped out a reply before he could stop himself.

**Hemingway isn’t *that* bad…**

Her reply was instantaneous.

**Juggie. He seems to be taking Hemingway’s “write drunk, edit sober” too seriously and showing up to class half-hungover. And then talking about Catherine. All he does it talk about Catherine.**

A faint smile tugged at the edge of his lips. While he and Betty had been close before he moved, now they were considerably less so. It might have had something to do with Betty beginning to date his best friend Archie shortly before graduation, all wrapped up in one another with Betty’s mother, _the harpy,_ he thought viciously, posing them for photographs. Or it might have had something to do with the way thar Archie promptly forgot all about him, once he and Betty got together. Either way, Jughead was both thrilled and somewhat irritated to be hearing from her halfway through their first semester of college.

Their conversation was short and left him feeling rather… odd. He contemplated it. Once, he, Archie, and Betty had been inseparable. But that had been in high school, and the previous summer. He already felt changed by his time in university: Toni and Sweet Pea had gotten him into movie and pizza nights at their apartment, and he and Veronica studied together more often than not. The Jughead Jones from Riverdale that he’d been when he stepped foot on campus was not the Jughead Jones who sat behind a desk at a library, fielding reference questions from lost students who didn’t know how to use the Dewey Decimal system.

His phone buzzed again.

**Jug, I am planning a social gathering this weekend at your favorite pizza parlor. Bring that Toni and Sweet Pea of yours so I can finally meet them and we can commiserate over how utterly banal you’ve been since you’ve been locked in the library.**

Jughead chuckled.

**Saturday?**

**Seven o’clock. Don’t you dare be late.**

Jughead shook his head fondly. Veronica was a force of nature, and if she wanted to meet Sweet Pea and Toni (since their schedules were no longer conspiring against them to keep them apart), then they would all get together.

-

“Jughead!”

Veronica flung herself at her friend, cheeks rosy with the drink she’d already imbibed. Jughead froze as her arms wrapped around him, tugging on his beanie affectionately.

“Took you long enough!”

She turned and gifted Toni and Sweet Pea with a dazzling smile, stating “hi! I’m Veronica, Jughead’s notoriously social study partner.”

Toni introduced herself and Sweet Pea and soon the girls were lost in a conversation about the shade of lavender that Toni had recently streaked her hair with. Sweet Pea jerked a finger towards the bar.

“Something to drink?”

Something in Jughead’s stomach twisted and his mouth went dry.

“Some water would be a good idea, yea,” he managed to get out. Sweet Pea looked at him inquisitively and he shrugged apprehensively. He didn’t know how to explain his family history to Sweet Pea.

The boys got their drinks and ordered their pizza, finding a corner that wasn’t quite in the middle of the group of students that were slowly becoming lively. They nursed their drinks (a soda for Sweet Pea and water for Jughead) before Sweet Pea said quietly “my mom was an alcoholic.”

Jughead’s head jerked up and he stared at Sweet Pea. He met Jughead’s gaze evenly.

“Yup. Started drinking after my dad left. I was nine. My grandmother came over one day to check in with us and found me trying to shake my mom awake. Mom was passed out on the couch with a bottle of vodka still in her hand. My grandmother was furious.”

Jughead took a swallow of water and looked away.

“She yelled at my mom, who was still drunk. My mom shrugged her off and batted her away. My grandmother slapped her and she still didn’t get up.”

Jughead looked back at Sweet Pea.

“My grandmother took me in and raised me. My mom didn’t even try to keep me.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.”

Sweet Pea shrugged and smiled wryly.

“I’m mostly over it. My grandma and Toni’s granddad are best friends, so T and I have been attached at the hip for ten years. We’ll drink some, but not much. Not enough to have to worry about it.”

Jughead nodded and Sweet Pea elbowed him.

“Just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone.”

Veronica and Toni joined them, bringing a tray of mouth-wateringly delicious pepperoni pie.

“You guys good?” Toni asked.

Jughead smiled at Sweet Pea, who nodded at him encouragingly.

“Yea. We’re good.”

-

Someone had decorated the library with holly and tinsel. Jughead’s nose wrinkled as he shelved the latest returns. Christmas had never been jolly, not for him, and he didn’t quite understand why everyone else seemed to love it. _Peace and goodwill to all men, his ass._

He heard footsteps behind him and half-turned, thinking that someone was trying to get past him. That someone turned out to be Veronica, pretty as could be in a sapphire-colored sweater and dark leggings.

“Hey, Jug,” she greeted him. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes were downcast. Jughead immediately put down the novel _Mastiff,_ shelved in with the other Tamora Pierce books, and touched her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

Veronica swallowed, shaking her head as her eyes flicked up at him before immediately returning to the ground.

“V, what is it?”

Veronica let out a shaky laugh. Jughead almost never called her by Toni’s nickname for her, _T and V_.

“I’ve got to go home for Christmas,” she told him. Jughead shot her an incredulous look and she sighed. “It’s not that I don’t love my parents, because I do, but I’d planned on staying on campus for most of the break so I could get ahead for next semester.”

“Can’t you study at home?” Jughead was looking at her, his best friend, and was at a loss. She was visibly upset and her hair, usually arranged relatively-perfectly, was thrown up in a messy bun and it was clear that she’d been rubbing at her eyes (if the smeared mascara was any indication).

Veronica sniffed and swallowed hard, refusing to look at him. Jughead glanced around the aisle before towing her to the door marked “EMPLOYEES ONLY” and opening it for the two of them, sequestering them in a book return room away from prying eyes. Veronica burst into tears the second the door closed behind them.

Jughead had her in his arms and was stroking her hair before he’d even realized he had moved. Veronica sobbed against his thin frame and he made gentle soothing noises, feeling her arms tightening around him as she cried herself out. She’d never cried in front of him before. Jughead pursed his lips at himself as he realized how protective he was feeling: Veronica’s parents should love her, should be in awe of how incredible and amazing their daughter was, and she was so stressed out over visiting them that she was crying in the back of the library? Clearly there was something with that relationship that he’d missed, he mused, as Veronica’s tears slowed and her breathing evened out.

A few minutes later, Veronica leaned back from him. He released her from his arms. She leaned against a nearby book carrel and gave him a watery chuckle, accepting a tissue from the box that Jughead held out to her. She blew her nose and sighed and then blew her nose a second time before making a disgruntled noise. The tissue was tossed towards a nearby trashcan. She missed.

Jughead retrieved it and threw it away, looking up at Veronica from lowered lashes. He’d settled himself into a chair and was waiting for her to start talking.

“My parents are… strict,” she told him. “I never doubted that they loved me, because they do, but parts of it have always felt conditional. _Go to school and do well_ and _take over the business one day_ and _come home for Christmas break because we need to parade you around to our cadre of friends as the heir to the business_. They have high expectations of me, and mingling with their employees is just part of it.”

Veronica scoffed. “As if any of those old men give a damn about me other than appreciating the eye candy that I offer them. There’s a Christmas party along with a New Year’s gala that my mother will rope me into planning when all I really want to do is work at the office and get some more experience for my resume.”

“Would they let you do both?” Jughead inquired. “I’m told there are twenty-four hours in a day, you know.” He and Veronica exchanged small smiles at their inside joke, borne from the time that Veronica had told him _you have twenty-four hours in a day, Jughead, you can’t spend eighteen of those doing nothing but schoolwork!_

Veronica pursed her lips. “It depends on the day, I think,” she said slowly. “I can at least finagle some days before and after the holidays, but the weeks of Christmas and New Year’s will be salon and shopping visits and more party planning than I care to deal with.”

“Well there you go,” Jughead said. “Tell your mom that you’re becoming a more _well-rounded person_ by gaining all kinds of experience.” Veronica laughed at him, the slump of her shoulders no longer dejected but more tired. She glanced at her watch.

“What time do you get off?”

Jughead looked at the clock on the wall. Veronica noticed the movement and asked “you don’t have a watch?” Jughead shrugged. It wasn’t really a priority when it came to making sure his cell phone bill got paid or ensuring that his scholarship money stretched enough for his textbooks. Veronica gave him a look but didn’t say anything. He was sure that she’d seen the state of some of his clothing, and the ratty old boots that he wore, but she’d never commented on any of it and for that he was grateful. He wasn’t sure how to explain the way that he’d grown up and didn’t want to get into it today.

“Should be off in half an hour,” he replied.

“Want to go get some dinner?” Veronica offered. “My treat, since I spent several minutes crying all over you.”

She gestured to his shirt and Jughead chuckled. “How can I combat such a convincing argument?”

Veronica gifted him one of her dazzling smiles, previous mood lifted, and Jughead smiled back.

“Grab your stuff and let’s go, then,” she told him. Jughead stood up and opened the door from the book room to the rest of the library, holding it up for Veronica like the gentleman she sometimes convinced him that he was.

“After you, my lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> And we're back, folks. There was such a high demand for more Veronica and Jughead after "Let Her Go" that we now go back in time to the beginning of their relationship. Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Right now there is no schedule for updating, as real life tends to get in the way.


End file.
